hit the body; but Dick had driven the
nail too often to aim at its body; he aimed at the bird's eye and cut
its head off.

"Fetch it, Crusoe."

In three minutes it was at Dick's feet, and it is not too much to say
that in five minutes more it was in the pot.

As this unexpected supply made up for the loss of the meat which Henri
had forgotten at their last halting-place, their equanimity was
restored, and while the meal was in preparation Dick shouldered his
rifle and went into the bush to try for another turkey. He did not get
one, however, but he shot a couple of prairie-hens, which are excellent
eating. Moreover, he found a large quantity of wild grapes and plums.
These were unfortunately not nearly ripe, but Dick resolved to try his
hand at a new dish, so he stuffed the breast of his coat full of them.

After the pot was emptied Dick washed it out, and put a little clean
water in it. Then he poured some flour in, and stirred it well. While
this was heating, he squeezed the sour grapes and plums into what Joe
called a "mush," mixed it with a spoonful of sugar, and emptied it into
the pot. He also skimmed a quantity of the fat from the remains of the
turkey soup, and added that to the mess, which he stirred with earnest
diligence till it boiled down into a sort of thick porridge.

"D'ye think it'll be good?" asked Joe gravely; "I've me doubts of it."

"We'll see. Hold the tin dish, Henri."

"Take care of de fingers. Ha! it looks magnifique--superb!"

The first spoonful produced an expression on Henri's face that needed
not to be interpreted. It was as sour as vinegar.

"Ye'll ha' to eat it yerself, Dick, lad," cried Joe, throwing down his
spoon, and spitting out the unsavoury mess.

"Nonsense," cried Dick, bolting two or three mouthfuls, and trying to
look as if he liked it. "Try again; it's not so bad as you think."

"Ho--o--o--o--o!" cried Henri, after the second mouthful. "'Tis
vinaigre. All de sugare in de pack would not make more sweeter one bite
of it."

Dick was obliged to confess the dish a failure, so it was thrown out
after having been offered to Crusoe, who gave it one sniff and turned
away in silence. Then they mounted and resumed their journey.

At this place mosquitoes and horse-flies troubled our hunters and their
steeds a good deal. The latter--especially were very annoying to the
poor horses. They bit them so much that the blood at last came
trickling down their sides. T